Chapter 9

Blood.

Beads of sweat popped onto his brow. No air conditioning. He’d forgotten what a luxury it was in England. It made him itch to shed his clothes.

A scream filtered from behind the wall before it got cut off.

His mouth went dry.

This was where he could forget. It was different enough not to remind him of some of his best memories. It was similar enough to leave the taste of them on the back of his tongue.

A broad hand smoothed over his ass. “You’re a fresh treat,” a man rumbled in his ear. His Essex accent was thick, the chest pressing to Jesse’s back a solid wall. “Looks like me luck just changed for the night.”

It was the same man he’d followed into the club. If the man was a vampire, then he could smell the waves of arousal coming from Jesse. No, not just arousal. Need. Desperation.

“What makes you think I’m here for you?”